


Best Laid Plans

by Tokyo_the_Glaive



Series: Tumblr Shorts [18]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokyo_the_Glaive/pseuds/Tokyo_the_Glaive
Summary: Organa corners Hux in a cantina on Knossos.





	

Time seemed to stop for Hux when his eyes met hers across the cantina, a tiny, backwater joint in the middle of nowhere in Knossos. He shouldn’t have recognized anyone—that was the point, to go and get a drink where no one would bother him—and yet there she was. Hux froze, momentarily unsure of himself. The odds were against it. It couldn’t be. He’d had a drink, after all, even if it wasn’t a very strong one. He was seeing things. HE had to be.

General Organa smiled with her mouth, not her eyes, and began her approach. Hux fought the urge to throw his drink in frustration. He was planetside, alone, and likely outnumbered. He held onto his glass and watched to see what she would do.

“Easy,” General Organa said as she sat down across from him. Hux let one hand fall to his hip, where his blaster rested. Judging from Organa’s posture, she did much the same. They watched each other over the table, waiting, not drawing yet.

Hux could see four outcomes. First, they could both shoot and miss. Impossible, given the short distance. Second, he could outshoot her. Possible, but her presence suggested to Hux that he was surrounded. He would hit her, possibly kill her, but he’d be swarmed by Resistance sympathizers within moments. Third possibility: she could outshoot _him_. Hux refused to consider it for too long. Fourth, they could both shoot and kill or otherwise severely injure each other. Provided Hux didn’t die, he’d be left with the same predicament as option two. He wanted to survive this fight.

Carefully and obviously, Hux placed both hands on the table before him. Organa did the same in a show of goodwill, Hux supposed.

“General,” Hux said, keeping his face as impassive as he could.

“General,” Organa responded. “I didn’t imagine this would be your kind of place.”

“Too lowbrow?” Hux asked.

“Too upscale,” Organa shot back without a moment’s hesitation.

“I didn’t think your kind had the funds even for his palace.” Hux kept his tone barbed and guarded so as to brook no misunderstandings.

Organa sat back, clearly at ease with the situation. Open posture, wide splash of limbs—she felt entirely in control. Hux fought his stiff arms and legs to mirror her. This wasn’t his kind of place—he could count the number of cantina’s he’d had the misfortune of frequenting with a single hand—though she likely had far more experience with such things. Hux remembered his briefings—Organa’s husband had been a smuggler. Han Solo. She’d learned it from him.

“Oh, we have our ways,” Organa said. “Not all of us have to run and hide our true selves.”

Hux couldn’t keep the sneer off of his face. “Perhaps you should,” he suggested. “You might live longer.”

Organa had the audacity to laugh. “Ah, you should be so lucky,” she said, speaking between chuckles. Hux was sure he was white-knuckled under his gloves, his hands balled so tightly into fists that he thought he’d have broken skin if not for the leather. “I’m afraid I won’t be dying any time soon.”

“Then you will suffer,” Hux said. “You will watch your beloved world crumble beneath your feet and fall dead under the weight of its own oppressors.”

Organa shook her head, a curiously open expression on her face. “It takes one to know one,” she said, eyes glimmering. “Don’t tell me you have plans for true democracy.”

Hux sat up straighter. “I intend to bring order,” he snapped.

“You’re a pawn,” Organa said, voice firm and low. “You stand on a big board playing the oldest game in the galaxy, but you’re still a pawn.” Hux’s tongue couldn’t wrap around a response before she continued, “You and him both—under Snoke.”

“Him?” Hux asked, squinting.

Organa’s face closed off. “Tell him I asked after him,” she said. She stood, and Hux found himself doing the same. She held out a hand to shake, but Hux declined, folding his hands behind his back. Organa dropped her hand. “Until the next time, General.”

“The next time, you will be dead,” Hux replied.

“Oh, I doubt that,” Organa said. She made a show of glancing around the room. Several pairs of eyes met Hux’s—plants. His blood went cold, even though he’d been expecting so much.

“I take this to mean that I am the one who won’t be surviving?” he asked, keeping his voice as crisp and even as he could. He hadn’t imagined that he’d die in a dingy cantina. He had to come up with an escape plan—

“Not at all,” Organa said. “He likes you too much.” She waved as she turned, and several of her planted soldiers stood as if on command. “Until next time.”

One of the soldiers brushed against Hux as they left, glaring at him. Hux glared straight back.

“Well-played,” he murmured, sitting back down. He looked into his glass, contemplative. He could follow them. He’d get himself killed doing it, but he could. “Until next time.”

“Another drink?” the bartender asked.

Hux pressed his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t think so,” he said.

He left the cantina burning behind him as an example. He, alone, would survive.


End file.
